


Is it Really No Mither?

by SuperPsychedelic



Series: Divergent Happenings of the Fog [1]
Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, David is an idiotic martyr, David's accent is weird and a bitch to write, Disturbing Themes, Don't read if you ain't ready for this shit, Explicit Language, Hurt/Comfort, I wrote this on my phone btw, I'm so sorry, Low-key kingfield, M/M, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Some Fluff, Sorry if things are wrong or weird, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Wound Fucking, Wraith gets his revenge I suppose, extreme violence, face fucking, omfg I can't believe I posted this, so many trigger warnings, why tf did I write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 05:38:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12125718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperPsychedelic/pseuds/SuperPsychedelic
Summary: A disastrous trial against an angry Wraith has left David and Dwight on their own with a small chance of survival. As a last measure, David decides to distract the killer, planning to let himself be sacrificed in order for Dwight to escape. The Wraith has other ideas however...





	Is it Really No Mither?

 

David King gazed absentmindedly into the eternal fire pit before him, scratching at a newly-formed scab across his brow. He had no idea just how long he'd been trapped in this hell-hole, (weeks? months?), but he still felt like “the fucking new guy.” He knew how to hold his own by now when it came to fixing generators, avoiding the killer, and rescuing his teammates ( _ bloody snide dopes, the lot of 'em... Well, most of 'em anyways…) _ His refocused his vision on that office dork sitting on the far side of the flames. He hated to admit it, but David had developed a sort of soft spot for the man. Dwight was pretty good at organizing everyone and coming up with plans for trials. At first David didn't fancy taking orders from anyone, especially some scrawny pizza boy. But when he realized his fists weren't going to be much help against the supernatural strength of these monsters, he relinquished his initial judgement on Dwight's plans and started to listen. Not surprisingly, those usually resulted in his return to the camp fire in one piece, rather than with his guts strewn about a cornfield.

Dwight was good at planning but when he was eventually found by the killer… it usually ended badly. David often found himself between the killer and Dwight in many a trial. A few slashes and shattered bones were no mither for him if it meant his friends and Dwight were okay. He did his best to shield everyone, except, he really didn't even know  _ why _ he tried so hard to protect Dwight in particular. It was almost an instinctual reaction whenever he was hurt. He couldn't fucking stand seeing him in pain and fear. Maybe he felt like Dwight didn't deserve the wrath of the killers. If they were going to take it out on anyone, it should be himself.

Being sacrificed was nothing if not excruciating, but he’d take the pain if it meant the others lived. He was used to being a punching bag throughout his life. In this one, he reckoned he’d just become the meat sack that gets impaled and consumed by some bloody spider deity. Just seemed to be his destiny. ( _ Self-sacrificing dim cunt I am, I need to get me damn 'ead on straight. Shan't be keeping this up or God knows what in 'ell is goin’ to happen to me.) _

He wasn't sure of the repercussions of being taken by The Entity over and over again. There was a part of him that was already desensitized to all of the pain and violence here. After you die, you just wake up here, usually in as good a condition as before you went in. If you came back after being sacrificed however… it always felt like some part of you was missing. It was a horrible feeling, but he could never really articulate what exactly it was or why it felt so dreadful. After unsuccessful trials, he could see the look on the other’s faces; discomfort, exhaustion, hopelessness… it was the same feeling every time you were sacrificed.

A concerned look from Dwight across the way snapped David from his morose thoughts.

“Um, Y-You okay David?” Dwight asked uncertainly. It was painfully obvious that social interaction was difficult for him.

David sighed heavily, “Ye mate, m’fine. Jus’ feelin’ a trite knackered is all.”

Dwight’s eyebrow rose, obviously bewildered by his thick accent.

Rolling his eyes, “I’m jus’ tired,” he rephrased. Bloody Yanks.

Dwight nodded with an amused smile and returned his gaze to the dancing flames, seemingly a bit tired as well.

On either side of them was Jake and Claudette, who also seemed just as worn out as the other two. It was a chronic condition in this place. There were a few other survivors he'd met before but it was just them at the moment. Sometimes it would take a while for the Entity to spit them back out. On average there were about five or six, sometimes even nine people here at the fire, but only four at a time could brave the trials.

Silently, Jake stood up from his seat on the log, buried his face in his scarf, and quietly made his way into the darkness of the forest. David knew the quiet outdoorsman liked to wander off sometimes, and it irked him for some reason. “Skiven’ Nancy..” David said under his breath, as he rolled his eyes. A glance from Jake told David he heard him, but didn't care. The stoic survivalist soon disappeared into the fog.

David stretched out and strained, “Don't know about youse, but I'm buggered to 'ell. I think I'll be closin’ me eyes for a bit.” He settled down into the ground with the log seat at his back and got as comfortable as he could manage. Not long after, he heard the other two do the same. It wasn't like there was much else to do here anyways.

Christ's sake; what he wouldn't give for a pint right about now.

As David awoke, he felt a moist breeze creep across his face and into his lungs.

“Guys wake up,” called Jake.

Groggily, David forced his eyes open and saw that they were nearly surrounded by a thick swirling fog. Everyone knew that it would soon engulf them and transport them into a new torturous trial. They instinctively began to bunch up next to each other as the unnatural fog rolled in. Their starting positions could be on opposite sides of the map if they weren't literally holding onto each other. David felt a nervous hand grab onto the edge of his jacket, most likely Dwight's, just as the fog became impenetrable. They waited in silence for several minutes as the opaque barrier roiled around them. David looked around but saw nobody; the fog was blinding. Still feeling the hand nervously holding his jacket, David went ahead and grabbed the smaller man’s arm; just in case.

Finally after several long minutes in the suffocating mist, features of the new environment began to take shape.

“Autohaven…” whispered Dwight, who was now finally visible. And indeed it was Autohaven. The repair garage was not 20 meters away. Jake and Claudette were nowhere in sight; the fog must've dropped them somewhere else.

Cautiously the two made their way toward the garage and began working on the generator situated there. They also took the time to search a nearby chest that contained a good amount medical supplies. David gave them to Dwight, “in case he cocked up so someone didn’t have to drop their shite and go save his daft bloody arse.”

 

~~

 

The trial was going swimmingly for that first gen, but the Wraith wasn't having any of it today. He seemed to just pop up everywhere and anywhere. They could barely keep each other from bleeding to death, much less finish generators. Usually the Wraith wasn't this much of a bother, but now it chased and hit them with a ferocity even Dwight hadn't seen before. The Entity seemed to be lashing at the Wraith's back, and the result was fearsome.

With still two generators left to go, they eventually lost Jake and Claudette to the Entity. Only Dwight and David remained huddled in a corner as they bandaged each other's wounds.

“That invisible cunt’s got those last couple gennies locked down hard- ack!”

“Sorry! Sorry,” Dwight apologized as he rebandaged the other’s shoulder a little more loosely this time.

They had both been on the hook already and David was sure he didn't have the strength to fight the Entity for very long if he was caught again. He could see Dwight was just about at his wit's end as well. Things were looking grim.

“Look, we ain't gettin’ a single genny finished without that fucker distracted for a good long while, so-”

“David, stop. You don't have to put yourself in danger. We can do them quickly if we stick together and be careful.”

“Oh sod off. 'ave you not been payin’ any mind at all these past few? That thing's out fer blood this time. 'e'll kill us both when he finds us.”

Dwight pauses, trying to evaluate the situation for any other alternative, but finds none. His brow furrows. “Doesn't mean I won't try to get us both out.”

“Nah, please do. I'd be buzzed if you can get two gennies up before I get bloody eviscerated.” He winced as Dwight tied off the remaining bandage, flexing to test the handiwork before throwing his jacket back on. “Bit sore, but I'll manage.”

He noticed the smaller man seemed quite dejected by the whole situation. David knew how much the leader wished to save everyone, but sometimes he forgot about his own safety. He placed a hand on Dwight's shoulder.

“Listen, if I go down, don't come for me aite? Find the hatch and get the fuck outta 'ere.” When the other just continued to skulk at the ground, David shook him a bit.

“Aye! I mean it Fairfield! Only one of us is gonna make it out alive.”

“Why me though?! Why are you always the one who has to die? Why don't I be the bait so you can escape?”

David was immediately put off by Dwight's hushed outburst, then angered that the other could even consider that possibility.

He grit his teeth, “Because this is how it's goin’ to be. You live, I die.”

“But why? Why are you trying to be some god damned martyr all the time? What's so bad about you living this time?”

David shook him with both hands this time, probably a bit harder than he should have. “Because I can't stand seeing you hurt okay? I'd rather die than watch that fucking abomination kill you and drag you up into its maw to do whatever the ‘ell it does. I can't do it...” Shite, did that really come out of his fat gob? He couldn't tell who was more shocked right now; himself or Dwight. Letting his arms droop to his sides he stared at the ground, trying not to let his emotions get the better of his usually tough demeanor. Christ, if he cried now, every single one of his Man-cards would be revoked on the spot. Why the hell did he have to feel this way, why couldn't he go back to being some carefree drunk brute.

He felt a light touch on his arm and looked up to see a very concerned Dwight, “S-sorry I didn't know.” They both continued to avoid eye contact. “I've been here longer than I care to know; been sacrificed more times than I can count… but.. I'm still here, more or less. I- I appreciate you wanting to protect me, but I hope you know it hurts me just as much if you die. No one should have to die...”

David sighed, a sad smile creeping into his features. He understood where Dwight was coming from, but David was as stubborn as his skull was thick. He could never willingly allow Dwight to sacrifice himself. “Can ya please just do this fer me? I need you to survive so I can live with m’self later, ay mate? Promise me you'll live and you won't try to come fer me, yea?”

He could see tears prickling at the edges of Dwight's eyes but none fell. The Brit knew how much the quiet man hated these kind of no-win scenarios. It was more than likely going to be just one of them escaping or both of them dying. He took in a steady breath then replied, “Okay. I promise.”

David nodded, relieved that the other finally agreed to keep himself safe. “Roight, don't start workin’ til you know he’s distracted.”

He patted the nearby genny and waved as he walked away. “Be seein’ ya la’er pizza boy.”

 

~~~

 

Soon, David once again found himself in the repair garage, far away from the generator he had directed Dwight to work on. From his pocket he withdrew a flashlight he had found earlier. It wasn't a very good one, but it was better than nothing.

Every muscle in his being was tense as he carefully listened for the telltale growls that preceded the Wraith. His eyes scanned the fog for any shimmer or distortion but saw none. There seemed to be no sign of the killer, but the hairs standing on the back of his neck said otherwise. David felt like he was being watched, observed…

He hadn't heard any bells or woosh of the decloak yet, but a part of his mind feared that the spirit hunter had found Dwight first. He was about to start slamming locker doors when that dreaded bell rang right behind him. He bolted for a nearby window, feeling the breeze of a missed attack tickle the back of his neck. The timer on his life was now ticking down. His only goal now was to prevent the inevitable for as long a possible or until Dwight was able to open the exits.

He led the Wraith all over the wrecking yard, managing to drop a few pallets on its head and get in a few good flashlight blinds. He dared not look directly into the killer’s eyes; he could feel its rage building the longer he stayed out of its reach.

Eventually, he mis-timed his hop through a window and was slugged across the back by the vicious skull weapon, sending him into the dirt and knocking his breath from his lungs. He only managed a small screech as he felt bones shatter and hot blood run down his back.  _ Not good. _

Fortunately he heard a generator pop in the distance. Only one more.

_ Un _ fortunately the Wraith noticed this too and began to go in the direction Dwight was surely to be.

David jumped to his feet despite his fresh injuries and bellowed:

“Aye... OY!! YA DAFT CUNT I'M NOT FINISHED WITH YA YET. FOOKIN GAGGIN ON YA PRICK OVER THERE? COME OFF IT YOU SOD. LET'S ‘AVE A GO! I'LL KNOCK YOUR GODDAMNED UGLY MUG OFF, YOU-.”

Oh shite, that definitely worked…

David limped off as the Wraith made a lunge for him, barely avoiding the furious attack. Another one grazed his shoulder, but it wasn't enough to bring him down just yet.

“ShiteFookShiteArseSHITEFUCK.”

He slammed another pallet down just as the Wraith was lunging for him again. When it recovered, it literally roared, a sound David had never heard from any killer ever before. It was then that David knew real fear. No more games. He couldn't let this thing catch him. At least, not if he could help it; there was no telling what would happen when it finally did get him.

Fear was driving him now. He ran wherever he could manage to put more distance between him and his pursuer. Sweat mixed with blood was stinging his eyes, making it harder to see. The blood loss coupled with the exhaustion of running for his life was finally starting to take a toll on David. He tripped up just as he was vaulting a window, losing some speed. It was just enough for the Wraith to grab his ankle halfway through.

The Wraith pulled at him but David held onto the window sill for dear life. He was a fighter goddammit! He used his flashlight to briefly blind the light sensitive killer then aimed his free foot to kick behind him. He heard the thing roar in pain once again and he was dropped onto the floor on the other side of the window. David wasted no time in scrambling back to his feet, albeit slipping in some of his own blood. He went for the other side of the garage as the Wraith maneuvered himself through the window to follow.

Another chase ensued, but David was slowing down and running out of options. He made a move to vault across a pallet but felt his shirt tighten across his neck before being yanked backwards. With a gravelly screech, he tumbled into a pile of junk. He groaned pitifully, his vision dancing, too dazed and exhausted to notice the slowly approaching killer.

**_SMACK_ **

His head was violently thrown to the side as the blunt weapon struck his left cheek. Surely his jaw was broken; his face was on fire. He barely noticed the Wraith's boney fingers around his neck until it lifted him into air. He vaguely realized that his breathing was restricted as he stared into the two white pinprick eyes. He saw no emotion in the pair of white dots, but David could tell there was fury behind them.

As the Wraith's grip tightened around the survivor’s esophagus, its victim realized he could no longer breath. Weak, but still lucid, David gripped and clawed at his assailant’s arms, trying to lessen the pressure on his throat.

After several more moments without oxygen he began to panic. Lungs were burning, he couldn't breathe! David started to lash out at whatever was in front of him, punching, clawing, kicking… but to no avail. Darkness was creeping into the edges of his vision now. He tried to fight but his arms were beginning to feel like lead.

Suddenly the pressure was gone, and he was thrown back toward the ground. He immediately began coughing and sputtering, sucking in deep lungfuls of air as often as he could manage.

Then, David felt the Wraith grab at his leg and yank him backwards. For a terrifying moment, he thought he was about to be Mori’d, but the Wraith continued to drag him along the ground. David wasn't sure what was happening. None of this was normal.

He weakly attempted to claw at the ground and at nearby objects but it did nothing to impede the Wraith's progress. Where was it even taking him? There were hooks everywhere but it kept passing them.

Finally, it stopped dragging him when they reached a remote corner of the wrecking yard. The young Brit grumbled and whimpered pitifully from the ground, trying to find the strength to force himself to get up or at least crawl. The Wraith seemed to be morbidly amused by his desperate attempts to get away, and simply watched him struggle for a few moments. David noticed this, internally angered by the thing's sick voyeuristic tendencies, but did not show it. He simply stopped trying, instead opting to rest on the ground and wait. The killer was obviously upset with David for making it chase him so long and hurting it; that much was apparent by now, and it seemed to want David to realize that. Except… he really couldn't give a rat’s arse about the killer’s feelings. This was what the survivor wanted anyways. He hoped Dwight was close to escaping by now.

It didn't take long for the hunter to become bored; it wanted to see the survivor's pained reactions and desperate efforts, and this show of stoicism wasn't doing it for him. The Wraith effortlessly picked David up by the scruff of his collar and threw him over a pile of junk and boxes like a rag doll. He nearly screamed in pain as his injuries and shattered bones were jostled by the careless action, but he grit his teeth and forced himself to be quiet, for nothing else other than not giving the killer the satisfaction. Any other time, he would have made a smart quip in this kind of situation, but his mangled jaw only allowed him angered grunts of pain and frustration.

He could feel the Wraith just behind him, its snarling breaths calm but intense. Without warning, his injured shoulder ignited with hot pain, forcing muffled screams from his broken body. Something was digging into the wound where he was impaled on one of those rusty hooks. In a panic, he tried to grab at whatever was hurting him, but the Wraith kept batting his hands away. A brief glance told him it was the vertebrae hilt of the killer's weapon. He could feel it slowly digging its way through his flesh, the uneven edges tearing at the soft muscle. His clothes and body were quickly becoming soaked through with hot, sticky blood.

The killer was growing annoyed by his victim's thrashing and fighting. It took one of the man's arms and pinned it behind his back. With the other, it grabbed a jagged piece of dagger-like metal from a nearby junk pile and swiftly stabbed it through the survivor's right hand, pinning it to the crate it had been on. David screeched in pain, his impaled hand trembling from the sudden shock. He whimpered when he attempted to move it, the razor-sharp edges of the metal slicing into his hand further. Another pathetic guttural sound escaped him as the spinal column was viciously thrust completely through his body. Tears were threatening to spill from his eyes at this point; the torment was almost unbearable. As the intrusion was cruelly moved around in his shoulder, slowly from side to side, David finally broke.

“Jaises FUCK, jes fuckin’ KILL ME. FER THE LOVE A’ GOD! Fucking KILL ME!” He screamed through his broken jaw, bloody spittle flying in all directions. The tears flowed freely now, intermingling with blood and sweat.

His tormenter seemed to go still, considering his plead for mercy. It leaned down slowly. Right next to his damn ear. David could feel the heat from its growling breaths. He shuddered; a combination of a muscle spasm and dread.

The weapon was ripped from his body.

David screamed.

The Wraith took a step back, observing the sobbing and bloodied mess strewn about the junk pile. The sight was very satisfying for the killer, but it had something more in mind. For this, however, it had to ask the Entity’s permission.

David was completely drained from this whole ordeal. Even though the killer’s presence was no longer right on top of him, he couldn't move even if he wanted to. He simply savored this brief moment of reprieve. Maybe his suffering would end soon… His thoughts drifted to Dwight. He hoped he was okay. If the wailing klaxon of the exit gates had already gone off, he hadn't noticed it, and neither had the Wraith apparently. ( _ Please please please don't try to save me Dwight. Just do the gens and get out.)  _ If the altruistic idiot didn't at least give him that much, then this was all for nothing.

The sound of shuffling fabric and bandages from behind drifted to his ears. Confused, he strained to look behind him. The Wraith appeared to be unwrapping his hips and lower extremities, clearly visible was its…  _ please God no… _ His eyes widened and his stomach dropped as the fresh horror of the situation dawned on him.  _ No, not this, anything but this! _

In a desperate panic, David reached for the metal shard impaling his hand. He would sooner  _ slit his own throat _ . He tried to yank it out, but it was lodged into the wood and  everything was slick with blood. The Wraith grabbed his arm and painfully twisted it behind his back once again. He cried out in despair at his helplessness, the tears flowing anew. Jesus Christ.  _ Jesus Christ _ he was about to be  _ raped _ .

“Please don't do this… fer the love a’ God jes’ fuckin’ kill me and be done with it,  _ please. _ ”

He was pulled backwards off the junk pile until his right hand was pulled taut against the metal shard. He grimaced as the metal bit into his flesh. The Wraith's enormous stiffness was at his back, moving over him and poking into him menacingly. It made him shudder.

Suddenly his shirt and jacket were ripped away from his injured shoulder, the already coagulated blood torn away, allowing more to flow free from the cavity. The Wraith also tore away what was left of the bandages Dwight had so carefully applied earlier. David then felt the hardened flesh of the killer's phallus against his bare skin, twitching with anticipation.

“ _ You sick fuck.. _ ” he whispered despondently, pressing his forehead against the side of the crate. There were no words for this level of depravity.

He bit his lip as he felt the head press against the puncture wound. Slowly but forcefully, the Wraith worked it into the tight hole. Fresh pain blossomed from the area as the injury was stretched and agitated. David involuntarily shrieked and spasmed at the intrusion, but the killer held him firmly in place. The Brit hoarsely moaned in dismay as he was penetrated further. Blood poured from his shoulder, acting like a lubricant. He noticed that his assailant's ragged breaths sounded more drawn out, like sighs of pleasure, and if there had been any food in his stomach he would have thrown it up right then and there. He still  managed a few dry heaves, hyper-aware of that oversized cock sinking deeper into him slowly, ever so slowly and agonizingly. He couldn't believe this was happening to him it was so horrifying. He wanted to disassociate more than anything but all of the pain, the sensations, the sounds ( _ Christ, the sounds) _ made it impossible.

Finally, all movement stopped. The Wraith was buried to the hilt, and David could feel its balls pressed against his back along with the throbbing of the hardened extremity inside his bloody flesh. He was then gripped around the throat and pulled backwards, flush against the killer's grimy hips. The hand impaled by the metal dagger was pulled as well, bleeding more profusely as it was strained. It started feeling numb at this point.

David glanced down and saw that the bulbous, gore-spattered head was visibly sticking out of his chest. He dry-heaved again. The Wraith, with the other hand not holding onto the survivor's neck, reached down and gently touched the head of its protruding dick, pressing down on the skin surrounding it. It bucked its hips a few times for good measure.

Then, the Wraith started to fuck him.

Slowly, almost lovingly, sliding in and out of the slick puncture wound, each time utilizing the full length of its cock. David moaned and whimpered miserably with every wet squelch and thrust. Each movement taking away a part of his soul; a part of his dignity and humanity. The phallus inside of him must have been grazing something important, because he started to cough up blood at some point. It mingled with the tears streaming down his face.

The pace of the thrusts became quicker and the hand on his throat gripped tighter. He was starting to choke and gag again, and the blood he was coughing up wasn't helping. The pace grew faster still. The survivor could feel the fucker’s ballsack slapping against his back. The harsh and heavy breaths of the Wraith were becoming just as insistent as the now irregular rate of his vicious humping.

The pain and the lack of oxygen was starting the make the edges of his vision go dark. He didn't fight it though, rather welcomed it, hoping he would finally pass out and escape this madness.

Just as it seemed his assailant would finally go over the edge, the killer stopped himself. David sobbed, frustrated that it still wasn't over yet. ( _ Jus’ blow your load already you fuckin’ bastard so I can die..) _ Still buried deep within its victim, the Wraith waited for its near orgasm to pass before pulling out with a sickening squelch.

David limply fell forward back onto the crate, sweating and trembling from shock. His eyes kept trying to roll back into his head. God, there was blood everywhere. How had he not bled out yet? Was something keeping him alive and lucid for this torment? Was the Entity purposely keeping him alive somehow? A cruel voice in the back of his head whispered yes. He mentally sobbed at the thought, too exhausted and despondent to physically do so.

Movement to his side. The Wraith was on his left now. It grabbed a fistful of his hair and turned his face towards its crotch. David felt the quivering, bloodied cock at his lips and immediately clenched his teeth shut. It was painful to do so with a broken jaw, but he did it nonetheless. He was still  going to resist when and where he could.

A sound not unlike a growl rumbled from within the Wraith; it would have its way with the condemned soul one way or another. It stuck a dark finger inside his cheek, trying to pry his mouth open.

David shrieked when hot shooting pain exploded from his jaw. Obviously a fracture had been disturbed. The Wraith wasted no time in sticking its fingers between his teeth to keep his mouth wide open. The Brit moaned at his failure as well as at the pain in his stressed jaw. ( _ God dammit. God fucking dammit). _ That vile cock was immediately on his tongue, and David retched at the overwhelming taste and smell of filth, musk, and his own blood. Without warning, the massive length was shoved down his throat. His eyes watered as he choked and gagged on it. He would have certainly bit down if it weren't for the Wraith's fingers between his teeth forcing his mouth open. Mercilessly, the killer plunged his dick even deeper down the Brit’s gullet and held it there. The survivor tried to pull away, but the killer held him firmly, pressing David's face against his hips. In desperation, David tried to open his throat to keep from continuously gagging on the massive cock, but it didn't do much. Bloody saliva poured from his mouth and down his front as he occasionally wretched around the intrusion. The Wraith simply kept him there, seemingly enjoying the sensation of the survivor's esophagus spasming around its dick.

David was starting to black out from lack of oxygen once again. He hoped the darkness would actually take him this time so he could rest. That would be far too easy an escape for the Wraith however. It let up just enough for the Brit to catch a breath before diving back in. This continued for an agonizingly long time as David was kept on the edge of consciousness, alternating between choking on air and the cock deepthroating him. He wished he could stop himself from breathing, but his lungs burned and screamed for oxygen, and he had no choice but to comply with his instinct to breath. The cruel cycle continued on.

After what seemed like forever, the Wraith finally pulled away and let him go, carelessly letting his head flop back onto the crate. It took a moment for David's oxygen-starved brain to realize his airways were no longer obstructed. Suddenly he was retching saliva, then gasped deeply as his lungs were finally filled with fresh air. He couldn't stop violently coughing and gasping for a while. He spat several times, trying to rid the filth and taste from his mouth.

A hoarse and dejected moan escaped him when the Wraith's cock was in his face again. It dripped with his bodily fluids and was clearly leaking precum, the sight making him gag.  _ Not again… _ Defiantly, he clamped his jaw down once more, determined not to have a repeat of what he just went through. The Wraith firmly pressed David's head down against the crate and held itself in its other hand. The member was at David's trembling lips, leisurely moving over and around them, spreading the salty precum all around and in his mouth. No attempt was being made to penetrate his orifice, but David wasn't going to take a chance and let up. Disgusted, he shivered as the throbbing flesh slid all around his face, coating it with more of the fluid.

Apparently satisfied with its handiwork, the Wraith released him and stepped back once more, appearing to admire the sight before it. David noticed this and turned away, humiliated with himself, and attempted the wipe his face with a sleeve. Looking at his right hand, he casually remembered that it was still impaled on the crate he was laying on. It had gone numb a while back. Vaguely, he considered trying to pull it out again and kill himself.

He felt thin fingers dip into the waistline of his pants, and his heart leapt with dread. A dark part of his mind knew this was coming eventually, but there was no way to mentally prepare for it. He whimpered feebly as his pants and boxers were simultaneously ripped away, leaving him completely exposed. His flaccid member was fondled briefly. Despite everything, David felt heat radiate from his cheeks, humiliated.

Pain blossomed from his shoulder for a brief moment, eliciting a surprised yelp. He turned to see the Wraith withdrawing its bloodied fingers from the gaping shoulder wound. He jumped again when those same fingers were pressing into his asshole. He grit his teeth at the painfully uncomfortable feeling.  _ No no no no no no no he couldn't do this! _

David made a move for the sharp piece of metal stabbed through his right hand. He tugged as hard as he could manage, and amazingly, it came loose. He nearly wept tears of joy, ready to end his suffering, until a dark hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. The Wraith twisted his arm until he finally dropped the shard with a grievous cry.

“No! NO!” Tears welled from his eyes once more. He couldn't even fucking off himself. “God dammit all, please don't do it. Please no; not this,” he begged, his voice ragged and broken, “ _ Have mercy _ …”

He sobbed in despair when the slick fingers were reinserted into his rectum.  _ God fucking dammit…  _ Miserably, the survivor groaned as he was callously fingered and scissored, the only goal to open him up as quickly as possible. After a few short moments, the fingers slid free of him, and he was briefly relieved at the emptiness. The moment was short-lived however, as he felt something much larger at his entrance. Heart racing, he immediately clenched up in of fear, shutting his eyes and shaking his head  _ no no no no no. _ A painful pressure grew as the phallus pressed into him, gradually forcing its way through that tight ring of muscle.  _ Oh God he was being raped! It hurt. It hurt!! _

David screamed when the Wraith suddenly shoved half itself inside him. The pain was so much more different from anything else; it was like taking a hot poker up his ass, with fire running up and down his spine. He jerked away, trying to go somewhere, anywhere, but he was grabbed and forced back down. The pain was so intense. He couldn't help but continue to scream and cry as more of the killer's length was jammed up his ass without reproach. The survivor pressed his forehead against the crate, bashing his head into it several times before resorting to biting into his lower lip until blood was drawn; anything to distract himself.

Finally the Wraith stopped moving, fully buried within David's guts. The odd feeling of fullness coupled with the fire in his ass was making him sick. A cold sweat started to form on his brow and he began to visibly tremble.

He screeched when the killer unexpectedly pulled out and quickly thrust back in.  _ Jesus Christ! _ More harsh thrusts quickly followed, each one producing a hoarse yelp or tormented scream from the anguished Brit. David held onto the crate for dear life as the pace increased, gritting his teeth until his jaw hurt.

After several minutes of this, his bowels started to ache; the blood had been a poor lubricant and his insides were now dry. Before long he could feel himself tearing inside each time he was impaled by that monstrous dick. A new pain burgeoned from within his guts. Fresh blood streamed from his ass and down his legs.

It was all starting to become too much. His mind started to go blank. Exhausted from fighting, he let his head loll about and lost his grip on the crate, becoming a ragdoll for the Wraith to fuck relentlessly. The intense pain was becoming a dull ache in the back of his mind as he finally started to dissociate; a small reprieve from this horrific ordeal.

His blurred vision caught some movement not far off. A white blob. He blinked a few times to refocus his eyes.

David's heart faltered, mortified.

There, not thirty meters out, hiding behind a wall of junk, was Dwight. The leader was taking quick glances at him, obviously not wanting to watch outright. It was also clear that the man was visibly upset, with tear tracks on his face. Christ, how long had he been watching? David had been making an insane amount of noise; his screams had probably drawn the man away from the generator to investigate. No wonder he hadn't heard the siren. He saw Dwight glance back at him then and they made eye contact this time. David turned away, ashamed. He couldn't bear see the other’s reaction to him in this state. It was far too humiliating.

The Wraith's thrusts were becoming irregular now, somewhat bringing David out of his stupor. The survivor morbidly hoped that this would finally be it. After several more deep impalements, the killer grabbed the survivor's hips and buried itself to the hilt in his victim's abused ass, shooting a huge amount of hot, thick semen into his bowels. David cringed as he was filled with rope after rope of the vile substance. He wished he could die more than anything at the moment rather than be subjected to this.

The Wraith drove into him a few more times for good measure, the cum squelching around inside him; he would've vomited if he wasn't so thoroughly destroyed. Then finally,  _ finally _ , the killer pulled out, letting the survivor slide backwards and collapse onto the ground at its feet. It shook off a few beads of cum and blood from its dick onto the man's face before wrapping itself back up.

Staring dazedly up at the gloomy sky, David eagerly awaited his death. It was all he could hope for at this point in terms of mercy. He saw Wraith stare down at him with those two pinprick white eyes, devoid of remorse. Silently, he waited for that axe of bones to cave his skull in, beat him to death, something. But nothing came. The killer simply walked away: It didn't even have the fucking decency to put him out of his fucking misery.

Tears flowed freely down the sides of his face.  _ How was he so fucking worthless. Raped and abused until he couldn't even move and then left to rot. Bloody worthless… _

After several minutes alone with his thoughts and self-hate, he heard approaching footfalls and then a panicked but hushed voice.

“David! David!” Dwight dropped to his knees at the other's side, carefully propping the broken man's body up against his own. His voice was trembling. “D-Don't move, I'll get you fixed up,” he said, choking on a sob and fumbling with his med-kit. “S-shit, I'm so sorry, t-this is all my fault, I should've…”

A hand reached up and pushed away the roll of bandages Dwight was starting to unroll.

“Come off it… you bloody idiot,” David rasped. He was struggling to breath. “I told ya... not to come fer me…”

“David stop, you need help.”

“I said come off it… 'm too far gone,” he slurred, “Save yer shitty supplies for someone who's worth it.”

Dwight fell quiet, feeling hurt by that and trying very hard not to break down. There was an uncomfortable length of silence between the two.

“Help me get me bloody trousers back on…”

Dwight winced at that. He wasn't completely ready to face the fact that his friend was just sexually assaulted by the Wraith, even if he had seen it with his own two eyes. He didn't refuse the request however.

As dignified as he could manage and fighting the protests of his broken body, David slipped back into pants with Dwight's assistance. He felt a little bit better now that he wasn't exposed, but he was still in a tremendous amount of pain.

After another bout of silence: “How much did… How much did you see…”

The smaller man grimaced, swallowing a lump in his throat. “I… I came over when I heard you start… I mean, I- I guess… maybe most of it.”

_ Great _ .

David stared at nothing in particular for while, wondering how he'd ever manage to look his friend in the eye again after what he surely witnessed. He felt so utterly worthless and dehumanized it was crushing. He trembled with a suppressed sob. Tears streamed down his face once again. Shit, he couldn't keep it together anymore. More quiet sobs racked his broken body as his emotions finally forced their way out.

An arm gently encircled and held him as he cried. Behind him, he could feel and hear Dwight quietly crying as well. With his good left hand, David took the other's hand in his own and held it tightly. The two stayed like that for while until their emotions settled down again.

“M’ sorry…” David whispered.

Dwight's heart wrenched, “You've got nothing to be sorry about. It’s.. it's not your fault…”

“Well s’not yours either.”

The other survivor didn't really believe that, but said nothing in response, instead opting to redirect to the matter at hand. “Just let me help you David, we can still both-”

“No.”

“... _ David.” _

“God dammit Fairfield! I said _ n- *aCK*”  _ The Brit went into a coughing fit, with Dwight pensively holding onto him like he would keel over at any moment. When it was finally over, blood was dripping from his lips. He spat out the rest and wiped his face with a sleeve. “You've gotta get outta 'ere. Wraith could come back anytime.”

“But…  _ David. _ ”

“I need you to live, 'member? Otherwise this…  _ this shite _ ... was fer nothin’. Just leave,  an’ save yourself.”

He felt Dwight grip him tighter, his body trembling with emotion. David was about to scold him away like a stray dog that wouldn't go home, but the man finally released him. Dwight pulled him to the side a little bit to let his doomed friend sit up against the junk pile. It was excruciating to be moved, but he grit his teeth and bore it. The leader stood and looked down at David, nervously wringing his hands.

“Thanks. Now, hand me that piece 'a metal.” He pointed at the ground nearby.

Dwight glanced around until he saw a bloodied dagger-like shard of corrugated metal. He turned it over in his hand, remembering seeing it stabbed through David's hand earlier.

“Give it 'ere.”

“...Why?”

The Brit was visibly irritated. “Because.”

“Why do you need it?”

“I'm jus goin’ ta hold onto it for a while, okay?”

“...I don't believe you.”

David sighed, “Look, Dwight, I shoulda bled out a long while back, but the Entity thing is keepin’ me from dying some’ow,” a rattled cough interrupted him, “And you can't get tha hatch if I'm still alive. So give it 'ere,” he said with his hand outstretched. He could see that Dwight didn't like the idea enabling his suicide (he looked disturbed more than anything), but the gears behind his logical mind were turning.

Finally after scrutinizing David for a good long while, he hesitantly handed over the shard. The Brit swiped it away and held it at his side, somewhat hidden from the other man's view.

“Thanks… now go on and get outta ‘ere,” he said softly, unable to bring himself to make eye contact. From a quick glance however, he realized that Dwight was weeping silent tears once more, staring at him hoping he might change his mind. David wanted this without a doubt. He didn't want to have any of these physical scars as a reminder. He'd rather wake up at the campfire like he was; not defiled.

When the Brit did nothing but stare at the ground for a while, Dwight took that a sign he was no longer welcome in the other man's presence. Wiping his face, he turned around and walked away. The leader wanted nothing more than to help the other man, but there wasn't much he could if he refused.

“See ya soon pizza lad.”

Dwight turned to look in surprise, seeing David give a small salute and smile. He smiled back sadly and waved briefly. Tears were streaming down his face again.

Slowly, Dwight disappeared into the fog.

After a satisfactory amount of time, David started to clang his piece of metal against a nearby oil drum.

“Come out, come out, you fucking rapist cunt. You didn't finish tha job!” He called out hoarsely.

It took a while, but his annoyingly incessant noises finally drew the Wraith to him. It decloaked a few meters away and stood there, looking down on the man it had violated with curiosity.

“Didn't even 'ave the decency to off me after you fucked me, aye? Well fuck you cunt, I'll do it me’self,” he quickly put the razor edge to his carotid.

Surprisingly, the Wraith made a small move to stop him, but hesitated.

“Oh? What’s tha mither? You wanna get the nerd too? Or did ya just wanna  _ fuck _ me some more you goddamn piece 'a shit!” He literally spat the words he was so angry. This would be his act of revenge, however pathetic or petty it might've been.

The killer stared at him with those two little white dots, waiting to see if he actually had the guts to do it. It would certainly be a disappointment for its entertainment to off itself so soon, but it wouldn't be a total loss. There would be more opportunities in the future if the Entity allowed it.

The hunter’s hand moved for him.

“Toodles.”

 

~~

 

Dwight was waiting nervously by the hatch, his thoughts running a mile a minute, every terrible scenario with David he didn't want to think about flashing through his mind. A part of him wanted to go back and see if he was okay, but the logical part told him to stay put and trust his friend. Suddenly the hatch flung open, cold air howling from the darkness of the hole in the ground. At that, Dwight couldn't stop the tears from falling. That could only mean David was dead… He sobbed a few times as he stared into the darkness. Of course death was never permanent here, he knew that, but it still hurt nonetheless to lose him under the circumstances; if only for this brief moment. Maybe he was already back at the campfire by now and he could-

Two rings of a bell from behind shocked  Dwight to attention and he immediately dived into the safety of the darkness. Above the hatch, the Wraith grumbled in annoyance that he had barely missed the boy. Some other time then…

 

~~~

 

David awoke with a gasp, sitting up straight as a board. He was at the campfire. Quickly he checked himself for anything that might've stayed from his ordeal; his shoulder, hand, jaw… He paused before continuing; there didn't seem to be anyone around at the moment. Hesitantly, he stuck a finger in the back of his pants and into his backside, checking for any damage. He was relieved to find none. The harsh reality of what happened was already starting to crash down around him however.

David slid to the ground and curled in on himself. He thought maybe he could block out this ordeal from his mind if he died; that no scars would mean no memories, but he was wrong, so wrong. He curled up tighter as the whole thing replayed itself over and over in his head; the phantom pains and feelings almost too real to him. He just wanted to forget. _ Make it STOP _ .

The survivor nearly jumped out of his skin at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder. A fist was pulled back and ready to launch at whatever was nearby, but he immediately relaxed when he saw Dwight shielding himself.

“Jesus Christ, don't sneak up on me like that you nerd.” He quickly wiped his face when he realized it was wet.

“S- Sorry, you looked like you were-”

“It weren't nothing,” he interrupted, voice cracking. “So you escaped right? That bastard didn't get at ya?”

“Yes I escaped.”

“Good…” He breathed. At least his suffering wasn't completely in vain. David withdrew into himself again, bringing his arms his knees, almost as if he could create a protective circle around himself. He really couldn't face the other survivor right now. In all honesty, he'd rather just off himself again to be alone if he could.

He heard Dwight silently sit next to him. The Brit shifted uncomfortably. He really wasn't ready for this conversation.

After several minutes of silence, he realized there wouldn't actually be a conversation, and he visibly relaxed, simply staring into the dancing flames. As he sat in the other’s presence, David noticed that his inner turmoil had been calmed somewhat; perhaps it was better that he wasn't left to his own devices for the time being.

It would take him a seriously long time to talk about it, but for now… this was okay. Silently sharing his pain with another was okay, and he was glad it was Dwight. David supposed it was the pizza boy’s turn to help  _ him _ after all he'd done to protect the man, and if that meant simply sitting next to him, so be it. He smiled ever so softly, grateful to have someone like Dwight there for him at his lowest moment.

The Entity could try its damndest to demoralize and crush them, but as long as they had each other… they had hope.


End file.
